Dean is lying propped up in his bed, on top of the sheets. He should probably go to sleep; the alarm clock flashes quarter past midnight at him in angry neon shapes. But it’s been a long day and he could make the most of the opportunity to wind down before bed. He strips his t shirt off, balling it up and tossing it on the floor.
He drops his head back against the headboard and slips a hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. He’s just settling into a rhythm when the shrill sound of AC/DCs ‘Back in Black’ rings out, obnoxiously loud in the dim light.
For fuck’s sake. Dean contemplates ignoring it. But then he glances at the clock and figures it must be important for someone to ring him at this time. He reluctantly pulls his hand out of boxers.
Dean growls as he snatches the phone from the nightstand without looking at the caller ID and snaps “What?”
A beat. “Dean?”
Dean bites back a groan. Of course it had to be him. He ignores the way something tightens low in his belly. “Cas?”
“You sound distressed. Is this a bad time?” His voice full of concern, pitched low directly into Deans ear.
“Yeah, a bit. You in trouble or something?”
“Oh. No, I’m not in any trouble.” Great, now he sounds hurt, like ‘honestly Dean I never call with tales of woe and danger’. “I just got back after my shift and thought I would see how you are.”
The undisguised warmth in that sentiment clouds Dean’s mind pink for a moment and he tries not to think about what that means.
“What are you busy with?”
“Just, ugh, just stuff,” Dean mumbles. Said ‘stuff’ is currently making itself known against his stomach and goddamn if Dean can’t have just the small joy of jerking off left to himself.
Now there’s an image Dean doesn’t need. “No, no, I’m on my own.”
The pause is long enough that Dean begins to feel guilty about it. Stupid featherless angel probably thinks Dean’s making excuses not to talk to him. The echo of his low voice starts to become drowned out by the tense silence and Dean can imagine him stood there, dark just-fucked hair brushing his fingers where he holds the phone to his ear. Dean closes his eyes, dropping his head back against the headboard. He can hear Cas breathing into his ear.
Fuck. This needs to end. Now.
“Look, buddy, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, if you catch my drift.”
“I do not, I’m sorry.”
Stupid, oblivious angel with his stupid, raspy voice. “I’m er- having some alone time.”
“Yes, you said.”
Dean feels like banging his head against the wall. Or banging something. He grits his teeth, “I’m having some ‘me’ time. Just me and er-“ He clears his throat. “my right hand.”
“Oh.” An octave lower. “Oh.”
Ding-ding. Dean sighs in relief. Finally he can escape what will probably go down in his own personal history as the most awkward conversation of his life. He rubs his face, relaxing. After a moment he realises that he’s still holding the phone next to his ear.
“Are you not gonna hang up now?”
“You’re not hanging up.” And oh sweet lord are they really doing the ‘no, you hang up’ thing. Dean trails his fingers across his abdomen, not daring to venture lower but needing to feel something before he goes insane.
“Most guys, when finding out another guy is rocking a woody, would not try and carry on the conversation.”
Cas makes a humming sound and Dean would swear that’s the noise he makes around a smirk. Bastard. “Seems like you’re the one doing most of the talking.”
Dean bites his lip and imagines the ways he could wipe the smirk of his face. His fingernails press into the skin of his hip and he almost misses it when Cas asks, so casually;
“Are you watching pornography?”
The splutter Dean makes is not one of his most dignified moments and it takes a few goldfish-like flappings of his mouth before he says “You can’t ask that!”
“Why not? I know you enjoy it so it would make sense.”
“That’s not the point! And what do you mean, ‘you know I enjoy it’? How would you know?”
Dean can almost feel the eyeroll Cas is making on the other end of the phone. He chuckles and draws out a long, low “Dean.”
And with that word alone Dean is harder than he has been all night. Dean clamps his lips over a moan before it slips out and rubs the butt of his hand against his himself. Goddammit. This is so wrong. But he can’t seem to be able to hang up.
“So you’re not watching pornography?”
“No. DVD player’s broke and Sammy stole the laptop for research.”
“So you only have magazines?”
“No, I was just going to, you know... use my imagination.” Cas makes a breathless noise and for the first time Dean wonders if maybe he’s not the only one enjoying this. The idea that Cas might be getting off on the thought of Dean jerking off is too much, and his breathing gets heavier. He rubs his thumb across the head of his cock and waits for Cas to speak. It takes him a moment and when he does he sounds almost hoarse.
“What were you imagining? Tell me Dean.”
Dean cradles the phone against his shoulder and frees his hand to brush over his nipple. He hums deep, nervous but excited as he almost whispers “A mouth on me. Sucking me, fast and wet.”
The sound Cas makes is positively filthy and Dean’s fingers tighten over his nipple. “Who’s mouth?”
Dean hadn’t thought that far, but his mind smoothly fills in the blanks, creating a dark mess of hair bobbing over him, rough knuckles stroking his thighs. Their head looking up to catch Deans green eyes with their blue ones. Dean can’t help the moan this time that slips out small and unintentional. He fists himself and squeezes tight. “Does it matter?”
The growl on the other end of the phone suggests that yes, it does matter. “Tell me.”
And fuck, this is where it’s all on the line. They could back out now and Dean could joke his way out of it, pretend this was a prank or he was drunk. He could hang up now and they could never speak of it again. But if he says it, it’s out there. There’s no laughing it off. There’s no denying it. And he’s still not sure that he’s read this right, that Cas wants this as much as he does. It could ruin them forever.
But god, he’s so hard and Cas’ voice sounds so good in his ear and he’s been denying himself this for too long now to think turning back was ever an option. So he takes a deep breath, every muscle tensing and rushes out “You, okay? Fuck Cas, it’s always been you.”
No no no no no. Dean’s backpedalling so fast his thoughts are a whirlwind, and shit, shit he’s got this so wrong, fucked up so bad and how could he even think Cas would-
“Fuck Dean.” Cas’ moan is guttural and he sounds so overwhelmed that Dean can’t even wrap his head around the fact that Cas just said ‘fuck’ because he’s too caught up in the emotions spilling through those two words. “Dean. Shit. You have no idea how much I want to be with you right now.”
And Dean laughs out loud at that, because yeah, he probably has some idea, and Cas wants him back, and he’s got his fist wrapped around his cock and Cas is on the other end of the phone, and Cas wants him back.
His laugh quickly turns to a moan when he starts moving his hand up and down his cock. He practically purrs down the phone, unable to stop the grin on his face. “I’m driving to you tomorrow. I can be there in a few hours. But first, fuck Cas, tell me you’re as hard as I am.”
“Harder. I need you to talk to me Dean. Right now. ”
The desperation in Cas’ voice is almost enough to push Dean over the edge there and then but he squeezes the base of his dick and shuffles further down the bed, so he’s lying flat. He uses the precome that is dripping down from the head of his cock to slick himself up. His head lolls back as Cas breathes heavy in his ear and the phone nearly slips. “Tell me what you’re doing right now.”
“I’m- I’m on my bed. I’ve still got my uniform on.”
“Take it off.”
There’s a shuffling noise as Cas puts the phone down and immediately starts undressing and shit, Cas is so fucking eager for him and Dean loves it. A moment later Cas is back, breathless and whispering, “Done.”
Dean pictures Cas spread out over his sheets, naked and hard and asks “Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes. I wish it was you though. I’m so hard for you Dean.”
His voice is so genuine and Dean knows that he’s not just saying this to sound sexy or because he thinks it’ll get Dean off but because he means it. And shit this isn’t how Dean’s done phone sex before, where the other person is so truly desperate for him. It scares him. But he knows without a doubt that he feels the same because all he can think, with one hand around his wet cock and the other fingering his balls, is that he wishes Cas was on top of him, lips against his, hand in his hair.
“Wish you were here Cas. I want you under me, hot and hard for me. I want your lips on my neck as I wrap my hand around your cock.”
“Dean.” Cas sounds almost pained and Dean knows he’s going to be the one doing most of the talking here and he’s perfectly okay with that as long as Cas keeps making those whimpering, desperate little sounds in his ear. Fuck, he’s not going to last long.
“You gotta tell me when you’re close Cas. I wanna know when you’re going to come for me.”
“Yes, yes I’ll tell you. Please don’t stop talking.”
Dean closes his eyes and bucks his hips into his hand, rolling them down against the mattress. He bites his lip, and murmurs “I want you Cas. All of you. I want your chest pressed against mine. I need to feel your lips around my cock, your tongue on my slit. Bet you’d be so good at that.”
Cas makes a throaty sound and mutters “Yes, yes.”
Dean’s breath hitches as he imagines the way Cas stubble would graze the inside of his thighs, rough and warm, as he swallows Dean down. His cock is heavy in his hand now and sweat is sticking his back to the sheets beneath him. Every time he rolls his hips they move with him and he can almost pretend it’s Cas’ hand ghosting over his spine instead. “You’d look so hot underneath me. Fuck, I want to taste every part of you. Do you like touching your nipples Cas?”
“I- I don’t... oh, yes. Yes Dean. Shit.”
Dean’s pumping faster now, because the noises Cas are making are going straight to his dick and he can’t take it. He whimpers at the image of Cas doing the same thing, just discovering how good it feels to roll his nipples through his finger and thumb. “I’d suck at each nipple, soft and slow. Would you like that Cas? My tongue on your chest while my hand pumps your cock, hard and fast and filthy?”
Cas is panting hard now, and so is Dean, and fuck he’s close. Cas is barely coherent when he moans “Fuck, Dean, I’m- close, Dean, gonna- fuck!”
“Come for me Cas. I’m right here with you.”
Cas gasp is sudden and loud and all he can make out is “Dean, Dean, fuck, Dean.”
The sound of Cas’ orgasm breaks something in Dean, and he comes so hard his back arches from the mattress, and he’s moaning Cas’ name like a prayer. He comes hot and thick across his stomach, vision whiting-out in a sudden rush. The phone falls from his shoulder as his throws his head back.
He breathes heavily for a long moment. He rides out the waves, and since when did he have waves like that? and waits for his vision to clear. Next to his ear he hears a distant voice calling his name.
He picks up the phone and sighs “Fuck Cas. That was fucking awesome. You’re fucking awesome.”
Cas’ voice is rasping and vehement. “Yes. I- That was-. Yes.”
Dean smiles, sated and happy. “I left you speechless? Gosh Cas, I’m blushing.” And he is a bit, because it should be awkward and weird and difficult but it’s not, it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. And he wonders why they didn’t let themselves have this, why they always ran from it, why they didn’t just admit that this thing between them was –
Shit. He’s an idiot.
“Cas. Stay there, okay? Fuck driving tomorrow. I’m driving up there tonight. Just, don’t move. Okay?”
“Okay. Dean, are you alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great, just wait there, I’ll be there in 2 hours.”
“It’s a 3 hour drive.”
“See you in a sec Cas.”
Exactly 1 hour and 57 minutes later there’s a knock at the door of Cas’ motel room. He opens it to see Dean Winchester, face flushed from the cold and breathing heavy from running across the parking lot. He stares at Cas like the final piece of his life has slotted into place. Before Cas can open his mouth he rushes forwards and kisses him. It’s hard and passionate and Cas has barely registered what’s happened before Dean pulls away. He looks at Cas and smiles, the light of it shining from his eyes, and says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world;
“I love you.”
Cas stops breathing.
With his first breath back he says “I love you too.”
He takes Dean’s hand and pulls him into the room, closing the door behind them.